Waves In the Night
by redrose24
Summary: What happens after Jon comes to Dany's room on the ship on the way to Winterfell at the end of season 7.


Daenarys sat in her chamber on her ship, reading by the light of the candles. While in front of everyone else she showed that her greatest strength was her force and her might, she knew she was advised by many intelligent individuals; Tyrion, Jorah, Missandei, Varys...Speakers of many languages, knowledgeable about any country, city, and culture they landed in. If she was going to rule instead of just reign she needed to be informed about her enemies and her country before her advisors even shared their knowledge. So whenever she had a few precious moments to spare she read.

Engrossed by a passage about the building of King's Landing, she was surprised when there was a knock at the door. Not an urgent knock, but a soft one.

Daenarys placed the book on the table and went to open the door.

_Jon._

He was here standing before her. He was wearing an intent, almost determined expression on his handsome face.

Daenarys was tired of trying to deny it. He had the face of a god and a warriors build.

And he was really here. She knew why.

She wordlessly pushed the door all the way open, and he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, their gazes locked.

"Jon," She breathed, bringing her small hand to his face.

She gasped when he brought his hand up, cradling her head as his lips captured hers. Her head swam in the most delightful way as his mouth moved and his tongue danced.

Jon pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard from excitement. He looked into her eyes.

"Daenarys, I should've died," He said gravely. "I should've died when I fell through the ice at Eastwatch. I should've died when my men betrayed me and stabbed me at Castleblack, but somehow I'm here. I should've died when the battle went south against Ramsey Bolton, but the knights of the Vale arrived just in time. Countless times, Daenarys, my brothers in arms beside me died who didn't deserve to but I lived. So maybe this great war will finally be the end of me. But if is, then I'll fight it by your side. And maybe I've lived through all I have to be here – with you."

Daenarys breathed deep, her brow coming together.

"We put our trust in each other – strangers," Her hand went to his chest. "I'm glad we did."

He smiled slightly, touching her hair once again, before his lips came down onto hers.

"Strangers no more," Jon remarked. Morning was still hours away. Candlelight still lit up the room just like when he'd first entered.

Dany could hear the smile in his voice. And the irony, her breasts pressed comfortably against his side, his arm tightly around her.

"Indeed not," She agreed, her voice laced with an equal amount of sarcasm. She looked up at him, and neither could help but laugh.

Her fingers made lazy circles on his stomach.

"I knew I couldn't keep you a stranger any longer the moment Drogon trusted you," Dany explained. "As he got closer to you on that cliff I wasn't sure what he'd do. Then you put your hand on him, and he relaxed completely. Then he looked at me. I can hardly explain it."

"I'm not sure what made me reach out to him," Jon said, watching the candle light illuminate Dany's smooth skin. "But I felt an incredible connection with him." Jon chuckled. "When we get to Winterfell we'll have to see how my Ghost greets you."

"Your 'ghost'?" Dany exclaimed.

Jon laughed outright now.

"My direwolf," Jon explained, laughing again when Dany looked relieved. "What your dragons are to you, Ghost is to me."

"Well, I promise to do my best to befriend Ghost, as I would hate for him to become Drogon and Rhagal's dinner by mistake. The only thing they fight over is food," She said.

Jon hesitated.

"Do they miss their brother?"

Dany was quiet for a long moment. So long that Jon was afraid he'd upset her. He was about to open his mouth when she spoke.

"The dragon has three heads," She whispered. "It's what my family has always said. Drogon, Rheagal, Viserion – they're three parts of a whole. Hatched from the same flame. Drogon – he's my mount, my fiercest protector. But Viserion was my gentle one," Dany said, now far away. "Ironic considering who he was named after – the person who cared for me the least."

Jon didn't need to see her eyes to know there were tears.

"Why give him that name?"

"I wanted him to be what his namesake was not – brave. I wanted him to bring honor to the Targaryen name. And my dragons – they love me. Anyone can betray you, I've learned that," Dany said, a hint of hardness to her voice. "But I walked into the very flame that born my dragons. We are one."

Jon placed a kiss on Daenarys' head.

"Go to sleep, mother of dragons," He murmured, Daenarys sighing peacefully in response. "And soon we'll be at Winterfell. And when the Northerner's see the dragons and their mother, they won't know what hit them."

Daenarys laughed sleepily, and Jon smiled. He got up to blow out the candles, then returned to embrace the silver haired beauty laying beside him.


End file.
